She Is Love
by elleisforlovee
Summary: Harry hears something, the wrong thing, and immediately jumps to conclusions. Is everything as it seems?


Music radiated out of the muggle contraption Hermione had set up in the corner of the kitchen when she had visited last week. It was like one of his dad's radios, but bigger, with larger black speakers and a long chord attaching the main system to each. Ron forgot the word for it but he enjoyed the music and the feeling it gave him as he danced around the kitchen in nothing but a t-shirt and his blue striped boxers.

Harry walked into the kitchen, the air immediately growing cold. He stopped, then forced himself to turn around, not wanting to confront this situation now. What he had seen upstairs was something he never wanted to see again.

"Oi, mate!", Ron called, a spatula in his hand. He found himself increasingly hungry after this sort of thing. It was only their second time and already his stomach was growling. After their first time they both had shared a bowl of ice cream. Ron blushed, thinking of what Hermione would say if she saw him now. He pushed her out of his mind as he was forced to do so many times already today. "Harry?" he tried again. Harry didn't turn around, but he didn't continue to walk either. Instead, he stood with his back to Ron, stepping at the threshold that separated the kitchen from the adjoining hallway that lead out and into the dining room.

"Ron, not now!"

"Harry, I'm sorry, alright? I didn't know you'd be home-"

"And that makes it okay?"

Ron nodded. "Well yeah. I wouldn't have had her over if I had known you'd be home."

"Ron, you're really not helping your case here, okay? Hermione is my best friend…"

"And she's my girlfriend!", he offered her up as evidence just as Harry had done moments sooner. They both spoke pieces of truth but the sentiment varied. Harry was clearly upset and Ron couldn't have been more proud. "What was he getting at?", they both thought in unison.

"Look Ron, I don't know what you thought you were doing but- but! You know what? Just forget it. She's my friend and you're my friend and we're just going to pretend I didn't see any of that because god only knows I can't stand the thought…"

"And you dating my sister is…?"

Harry threw his hands up in frustration. "Exactly! She's my girlfriend."

"Bloody hell…" Ron covered his eyes with his hand. He still smelled of her and he did his best not to inhale in that moment. Breathing in and out through his mouth, he fought the anger boiling up in his fists. "You won't get it, Harry. Whatever."

"Yeah, whatever!" Harry pointed at him as if his simple words were enough of an accusation. "Fuck off, Ron." Then he was gone, or he tried to leave. Ron's words stopped him, coming out just as abruptly as Harry's had.

"Are you fucking kidding me? WHAT IN THE BLOODY HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM? You can have Ginny but I can't have my fun?"

"Not with some random girl. Just because Hermione wants to wait doesn't mean you go fucking around on her, you got it? Now let me go!" Ron did, unsure of how to respond. There was the truth, and then there was Harry's words were Harry's words. Both sounded equally ridiculous depending on what side of the fence you stood. For them, it was only a room or two to separate them. It had been like this for a solid month now, and this morning, when she had apparated into his room, Ron thought nothing of it. Just like he thought nothing of what his best friend had just said. It wasn't important now and it didn't need time or energy spent on it. There were other things, mainly the girl upstairs in his bed, that deserved his attention more.

~!~

It wasn't a pop, but a light crackling, like the ignition of a matchstick, that signaled her arrival. He wasn't expecting her today, but then again he was never expecting her. She was a light put into his life and she would come and go for as long as she pleased. Ron didn't mind, as long as she always returned. Usually she did, on Fridays or on the Monday mornings before holiday. Having a job had its privileges in the sense that she was freer than he ever liked to admit. Ron often wondered what it was that she did when she wasn't hovering above him screaming his name as he filled her deep. Lately it hadn't even been about that. This morning was the first time they were allowed to be intimate in such a way. Usually they'd walk the streets of London or even Diagon Alley, both places providing for anything but privacy. He couldn't share her with the world. She was his to have and she always would be.

"Ronnnn…" she growled, feeling as he stepped into her, wrapping his loving hands around her midsection. Soon, they were up her shirt, caressing her taut little tummy as goosebumps grew under his touch. She had recently been on vacation with her parents and she was tan in all the right places. When he asked her how she got rid of her tan lines, she whispered something about a blending charm before getting down onto her knees and taking him in her mouth. She wanted this just as much as he did, he told himself. Surely she had said similar words a million times before but he still had to remind himself that she was his and all because she felt she deserved him just as much as he deserved her. She was an angel and a minx all the same. There were parts of her he'd see that he prayed she'd never show the rest of the world. Whoever this girl was, she was all his.

After wrapping his arms up in her skin, he nibbled at her neck, lapping at the base where he had marked her earlier in the week. He did his best to leave a love bite on the inside of her thigh, or even on her hipbone. It was a risk to do it elsewhere, and that's why he thanked Merlin she hadn't scolded him for leaving a pretty little bruise right below where her tops normally started. She dressed differently now though, almost as if she wanted the world to know. Didn't he?

"Ron?" She pulled him out of his reverie with a quick peck on the lips. It intensified as it always seemed to lately but only here, only in dark rooms like this one with the blinds pulled shut. "You okay?"

"Yeah, just something Harry said to me the other day."

"Do you think he knows?"

Ron shook his head. "I'm beginning to think he has no idea."

She smiled, practically beaming. "Oh, thank god."

Her lips reattached to his. She licked and sucked at his lower lip then paid the same attention to his upper lip. He was in her grasp now, just where she wanted him. She had waited all week for this, for him. Now he was here and the insecure girl that lived inside of her was put to sleep as the woman she was slowly becoming came out to play. If only Harry knew who she really was.

"Can we go slow, please? This always feels so rushed." Ron asked, making her think she was hearing her own words on a loudspeaker in her mind. She nodded, returning her lips to his collarbone. Their first time was slow and deliberate. With the passing of time, the emotions intensified so much so that everything spun and twirled like the first time they had danced together. He hated it and she hated it and they both hated it. What they couldn't understand was why it kept happening. They were a secret, but not in moments like this. Afternoons spent naked in bed were supposed to be romantic. Now, both could barely remember the last time that was allowed. A post-war world left little to no time for lovemaking and sensibility. Instead, it was snogging and quick fucks, with Ron pushing her up against the back of the fireplace as he entered her quickly. In both of their minds a clock ticked signaling how much time they had left like this. Usually what began as something well planned ended sporadically with Ron throwing her her clothing, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek before patting her bum and sending her off. She was his and then she wasn't. He didn't own her the way he wanted to but his heart ached every time he watched her go. Her departure always begged the question: "It's not supposed to be like this, is it?"

From their position on his neck, she moved further, pulling at the neckline of his v-neck sweater. Underneath her impatient grasp, the neckline stretched itself out, allowing her fingers to claw at the skin just barely out of her reach. "I like this jumper," she stated before latching her lips back onto his skin. "How much time do we have?"

Ron was breathing heavily now. All of his blood flow was elsewhere, pumping in and out of regions he was all too aware of. She knew, just as she always did. At first it scared her, now, it was pure excitement for her to see what she did to him. Only she'd see him like this, she told herself. It was uncertain the way all things in their lives had been but she had to believe in it the same way they both believed in lazy Sunday afternoons. "We were supposed to have all night but Harry's going to be home later."

She pouted. "Why don't I just stay? He doesn't have to know." Her fingers itched at the bottom of his jumper, wanting so badly to pull the material up and over his head. She did, then her hands were roaming over the expanse of the white t-shirt he wore underneath. There was never enough skin to touch. He was always here but never in the way she wanted or needed him. Maybe someday they'd have their own place, she thought. Quickly, she shook off the thought, realizing how ridiculous she sounded. She was eighteen and in love with a boy. She was normal by most standards and yet she couldn't shake the fact that everything about them, everything they did, was peculiar.

"Wait, wait, wait, why all the attention like this? When do I get to taste you?" His eyes glassed over as he spoke. Ron stepped into her again and once again wrapped his arm around her waist. She leaned back, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she resisted his grasp with the entire weight of her body. In doing so, she was pushing her breasts closer to his eyes. He noticed, not that it mattered. They were always too far away in his opinion. He had watched her for years and now that she was his, at least in these few moments, he found himself never able to touch her the way he wanted. It was a selfish request and he wondered how long it would take her to fulfill it today. In his opinion, her button-up shirt should have been ripped off when she first walked in.

"You said slow, I'm going slow," she reminded. "Too slow?" She asked, pecking his lips.

He tasted her, licking his lips to keep them from getting chapped. "Never too slow, I just want us to have time for...other things," he wiggled his eyebrows to get her attention. She smiled, then laughed, dropping her head back to allow for her chest to bounce. He noticed, just in the way he always did. She was his right now and for the next twenty minutes. Believe it, he told himself. He wondered how many more times he'd have to reassure himself that this girl in front of him was temporarily his.

Unexpectedly, he bent down and picked her up. Her body lay in his arms as he carried her to the bed and set her down, watching her petite form spring back up toward him. She giggled before getting on her knees and crawling toward him. In this position, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him passionately. In a split second she heard the clock and pulled away, wanting to taste him elsewhere. She reached forward, grabbing him through his jeans to let him know how much she wanted him. He groaned, dropping his head back. He was already so hard for her. He had hurried home from work for this and now she was here and he was worried he would prematurely show her how much he loved her because it hurt that much. Thankfully, as she pulled him out of his briefs she was happy to see him spring forward, ready and willing to be licked, sucked, and stroked. She did the latter first, paying special attention to the lower part of his shaft. He moaned, his voice low and soft. "Fuck," he muttered.

"Is this okay?", she asked, completely unsure. "I want you to feel good, Ron."

"I feel great, keep going," he urged her on, placing his much larger hand over her smaller one to guide her into a rhythm. She had done this before, but only once or twice. She would forever be insecure about her abilities, always wondering if they'd ever match up to what she thought he knew. At the end of the day he was just as frightened as she was. He knew nothing.

She urged him to sit down with a little more force than he was used to. He obliged, but only after capturing her lips against his own. She didn't taste like Hermione, not like this, not ever. He wondered if he'd ever adjust to this new girl, the girl that allowed him to be intimate with her in a way that Hermione never did. She was beautiful, and Ron hated himself for comparing the two. She deserved better than that.

No longer on the bed, she was now on the floor, kneeling before Ron with her tongue and lips sucking at the base of his shaft. She kissed up his length, then slowly took him in her mouth. The first time they had done this she coughed, then sputtered, but quickly sucked at his length once more. She wasn't going to give up that easily. Since then, she had at least taken this part of it all much slower. He was in her mouth but it took a good minute for her lips to reach his base. Then, she'd suck up to the top again, stroking the bottom of his cock while the top received kissed from her loving mouth. It was dirty to see her like this, but he loved it. He had waited years for her mouth on his, but to see her mouth elsewhere, on his cock, his abdomen, his collarbone, was a new type of excitement.

"Bloody hell," he gurgled, watching her pump at his length from his position on the bed. He lasted longer than he had in previous times. He wished that for her he had more control over what was about to happen but as he emptied himself into her mouth, his mind went blank and his eyes went black. As he regained stability, his legs still shaking, he looked down to her and watched her smile, swallowing all of him. She also licked at her lips, instantly causing Ron to harden again. "God, you're so sexy," he purred, pulling her up to her feet as if he was inviting her to straddle him.

She did, but only after she kicked off her pleated skirt, leaving her in just her white button-up and tie. Ron mused, watching her move beneath the sheer material. He wondered if while she was working, boys looked at her the way he was looking at her now. Quickly, he put the thought out of his mind. She was here now, and that wasn't important. What was important was her tits bouncing beneath the fabric as she sat down on Ron, straddling him, running her cotton covered clit up and down over his length.

"Tease," Ron spat, all the while wanting more. "Take these off," he said, snapping the waist band of the thong she wore. "Dear god, M-" He stopped, his head dropping back again as she stroked his length. Even as she let him go, his cock was still hard, pointing out into the air at her as she stepped back and stepped out of her knickers. Using her toes, she picked the material up and flung it across the room. Ron felt pre-cum collecting on the top of his dick and she smiled, urging him on as he stroked himself up and down.

"Let me help you," she said, wanting so desperately to taste him again. Ron had other plans, pulling her to him once again.

"No, I want to taste you," he emphasized in between words as he kissed at her stomach. Holding her shirt up, his hands wondered up to her chest and to the simple white bra she wore. Normally she'd be wearing an undershirt and he wondered where it had gone today. Had she taken it off before coming or did she plan ahead this morning and skip putting it on on purpose? Either way, he was happy that her tits were so available to him. Her milky flesh, especially that of her chest, was never enough for him. He remembered the first time he took her into his mouth. She cooed, and her mouth dropped open at the feeling of his warm breath on his breasts. It was enough for her to moan and he wondered if he could produce a similar, but louder outcome this time. "Gods, love."

"Here," she said, reaching around her back to unclasp her bra. "Hold on." She undid the clasp and the strapless material fell to the ground near her feet. "Better?," she asked, clearly teasing. Ron just nodded. He could see her pert nipples through the starched fabric. They scraped at the white material, and then they were against his own chest as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. He slipped his tongue past her lips, tasting at the insides of her mouth. He felt her tongue, her lips, and everything about her lower half grinding into him. He couldn't see her, but he felt her pussy rubbing along his leg. It was sensual, creating heat at the base of his neck out of pure frustration. He wanted to taste her, but a part of him needed her like this too.

It had happened quickly on their first time, perhaps prematurely when set in time but now, he wouldn't have it any other way. It wasn't to say that he was upset, actually it was quite the opposite, but he needed to know that this was what she wanted, and every time he couldn't help but to ask. "Are you okay?"

As she bit at her lip, she nodded. "I want you inside of me again."

"Are you sure? Harry might be home soon…"

"No, I do. I don't care. Well, I do. But I need you, Ron."

"I need you too."

Both were beaming now. She used Ron as leverage to position herself over the tip of his cock. Both were looking down to the point where they'd soon be connected. "Are you ready?" She asked, knowing that part of this was for her. She'd never get used to the feeling of him filling her completely. It still stung last time, but she imagined that soon that would dissipate. Or at least she hoped that was the case. It felt too good to hurt so much.

Slowly, she slid herself down his length. He groaned, and she winced, but she let him fill her as if it was the most comfortable thing in the world. "Whoa, baby, you okay, love?"

She nodded. "You're so big," she moaned. "Just give me a moment, okay?"

He pushed her hair behind her ear. "Do you want me to pick you up? You can be on top next time…"

"No, this is fine," she said, practically pleading with him to let her ride out this wave of pain. "Okay," she reassured him by holding both of his shoulders, "I'm ready."

He nodded, knowing what came next. She was riding him, pulling him out of her then slowly sitting back down, allowing the tip of his cock to slam into her most sensitive areas. She cried out, wanting to call his name, but she stopped herself, if only for a moment, to listen to the door downstairs pop open and a set of keys drop into the bowl by the door. She thought nothing of it, but she silently muttered a "colloportus" charm, ensuring that the door was secure in its jamb.

Soon, she forgot about the noises downstairs she wasn't even sure Ron had heard. He was too busy working contraceptive charms over her tummy with the flick of his wand while his mouth kissed at her breasts before taking each in his mouth.

"Oooh, Ron," she moaned. He looked up through heavy lidded eyes and smiled at her. "Yes, Ron, yes!" She screamed out as she hovered above him then came crashing down into a lovely orgasm.

He was close too, but not that close. He knew that he could last longer than she could but he so desperately wanted to come with her. Thankfully, she loved riding him even throughout her own pleasure. Even when the tickle in her tummy got to be too much, she still managed to guide her hips into a simple enough rhythm to bring him to his edge. "Stop staring," she reminded with a giggle. "You're making me self-conscious."

"Gods, love, I can't get enough of this. Are you...oh fuck," he moaned. "You okay?", he finally got the words out.

She simple nodded, then she let go. Her orgasm crashed over her body, highlighting the sweat on her skin as she leaned back, her hips slowing down as her legs shook. "You're beautiful," he wanted to say, or maybe he had. His orgasm came soon after and he was unsure of what his body was doing but he knew that there was no one else in the world that could bring him this far. Wasn't that the reason they had started this in the first place?.

Coming down from her high, she grasped at the back of Ron's neck only to place her forehead against his. They were both breathing heavily, air mixing in front of them as they tried to regain normal patterns of inhalation. "You're wonderful," she breathed out.

Then they heard a frantic knocking at the door and words from Harry that seemed like mumbles through the thick wood. Her eyes widened, feeling Ron grow limp inside of her. She moved, and he was hard again, something that made itself difficult as he slipped into a fresh pair of boxers. "Are you okay?" he asked his girl as he headed for the door.

"What's going on, Ron? You're scaring me."

"I need to sort this out with Harry. I'm sorry, but I do. He thinks, just...he thinks…" He wanted to tell her but the words weren't coming. "Never mind, just please let me sort this, okay?"

She sat forward, pulling and tugging the deep grey down comforter up over her naked legs. "Yeah, of course. Do you want me to-?"

"No," he shouted over his shoulder. He slipped out of the room as if not to wake the world he had left behind. He made sure Harry, who was sitting with his arms crossed over his chest at the landing of the stairs saw nothing of what was in his bedroom. This wasn't his to share and it wasn't for Harry to see. Nothing of what just happened should have to be talked about, Ron thought. Still, here he was, in just a pair of boxers, looking down at his friend in disdain. "Bloody hell, Harry!" He stood now, pressing a firm hand into Ron's shoulder causing the bloke to go tumbling back. "What the hell?"

"No, Ron! I thought this was over with. You told me-"

"I didn't tell you anything, you assumed! And you're home early again…" , he pointed out. "Don't blame me for this, alright? It's harmless."

"No Ron! No it's not! She is beautiful and perfect and she wants you and you ruin it by fucking around?"

"How is this ruining anything?"

"Ron?" She peeked her head out of the door. He looked at her, urging her to go back to bed but she was already too far in. Harry saw her and both men watched her appear before them in nothing but one of Ron's large button-ups.

"Hermione?" Harry asked, taking her in. He wanted to cover his eyes, but he noticed how she stood with her petite legs crossed so that he saw nothing but the way Ron's shirt made her body drown in perfectly placed fabric. The shirt was blue with white strips going down the length of it. Hermione's frizzy hair was parted to the side as if she had quickly tried to brush it and then gave up, resorting to running her fingers through it a few times before entering the hallway. She bit at her thumb, emphasizing just how big the shirt she wore was as the material pooled by her hands.

"What's going on? Ron?"

He looked back at her. Unlike Harry, he was allowed to stare. His mind flashed, playing a rapid movie in his head of everything they had just shared. He felt guilty and immediately he knew he should have told her what Harry thought but how do you tell the love of your life her best friend thinks her boyfriend is cheating on her? "Harry thought I was fucking around…"

"Harry?" Hermione stepped forward. She stood next to Ron with her hands across her chest. She wondered if this shirt was as sheer as her own shirt from school was. She hoped not. The things Ron was allowed to see should never be seen by the rest of the world. "What's he talking about?"

"I thought you were going to wait!", Harry offered up, raising his hand pointing to the bedroom for support. "I thought-"

Hermione cut him off. She grabbed Ron's hand, kissing it as she stepped into him, using his body as a structure to hold her up. He'd always be her biggest support system. "I did wait, Harry. What are you getting at?"

"I just thought. The other day I heard you two and...oh god," Harry rubbed at his temples. "I knew you wanted to wait and I thought that Ron was fucking around because he couldn't wait for you."

"Harry, why would you think that? Why didn't you ask? I know you're just looking out for me but he's your best friend too. And I know you sometimes don't like to see it but he's good to me."

"So I've heard," he quipped, trying to elicit a smile or a smirk from either of them. Nothing came, only the same disappointed looks played across both of their faces as Hermione straightened her stance and stepped further into Ron. "I'm sorry."

"Me too," Hermione said. "I'm sorry that this bothers you so much but I'm not a little girl anymore. Ron's not cheating. We're in love, okay? This is what people in love do. And I won't be sorry for that."

Harry nodded. "I just thought you were going to wait..…for..…for marriage," he choked out. All of this was too awkward for his already tired mind. He had just gotten into a fight with Ginny over the same exact thing and now he wondered why he was the only one who was this blind to see the affection in front of him.

"So we're not married yet...maybe someday. I hope someday," she whispered, causing Ron to squeeze her hand in affirmation. "We've been through a lot, don't you think it's time we act like teenagers?"

Harry nodded through his bitterness. He fully supported his two best friends but he didn't want to think of Ron and Hermione being intimate. It was more than just Ron defiling her body, it was also the idea that Ron was this man now but Hermione would always be the same little girl from first year. He pictured her in the same school outfit, a smaller version of the same one Ron had only previously watched her take off. She was like his sister, and someone he never wanted to lose. What he didn't realize was that he was pushing them both far away by ostracizing the love they shared. "I'm sorry," he just kept muttering. "I didn't know."

"Well it's not exactly something you share with the world, you know mate?" Ron said, finally speaking up.

"This is private."

"Right…" Harry breathed out. "Private."

"So please trust me when I say this is something we both wanted. Ron didn't force me into anything. Actually, it was my idea."

"Hermione, please."

"No, because I'm not a little girl, Harry! We're adults, and if you're going to accuse Ron of something so ridiculous because that's easier than believing that we make love, then you deserve every bit of this, you hear?" He only nodded, urging her to continue. "If it bothers you, we can just wait until Hogsmeade weekends but I thought you wanted me to be happy. And I know you want Ron to be happy. Just like we want the same thing for you. It's hard for me to be away from you guys, especially after last year."

"I get it, Hermione. And you're right, you're not a little girl, but you have to get that this is a little unsettling. You'll always be my little sister. I can't stand the thought of you getting hurt."

"Good," Ron piped up. "Me neither." It was his turn to defend what they shared. "So it's sorted, then?"

"Yeah, it's sorted. And listen, Ron, I'm sorry for not trusting you more. I was just-"

"Harry, I get it, I do, okay? But maybe it's time you realize that she means a lot to me too, okay? Actually, she's my world." He breathed in deeply, preparing himself for his own heavy words. "I'm not going to hurt her and I don't take advantage of how special she is. This isn't about that," he said, feeling Hermione squeeze his hand. He needed to hear this just as much as she did. "Have a little faith, will you? We've worked hard to keep this going, we just need a little breathing room once in awhile."

"Of course."

"Good."

"Ron, I have to get back," Hermione said, looking up at her boyfriend. She was smiling even though all she wanted to do was cry. His words meant more to her than she'd ever admit. Today was special, opening doors the three of them weren't aware were ever closed.

"Right…" he breathed out, bracing his heart for the impact of her leaving. It was like this every time and every time he hated himself for feeling so low. "Let's get you packed, then," he said, leading Hermione back to his room, their room, he thought.

Harry walked away feeling defeated. Hermione sighed, wishing she wasn't dressed so scantily so that she could run over and give him a hug. Not enough words in the world would ever show Harry how much Hermione appreciated him. It was almost as much as she appreciated Ron, but never in the same way. Harry was her best friend and Ron was the love of her life. Both titles held so much weight and oddly enough when one was too much for her to bare, she'd turn to the other for reinforcement. It was a balancing act, but one that she enjoyed and vowed to always keep as such. Life had blessed her with two beautiful boys and she needed them both equally. They were her best friends, and subsequently, her family. On days like this she found herself wondering how she got so lucky. Even with Harry's own insecurities, she found herself needing him in her life. Of course she'd always need Ron, but that didn't need affirmation. She always had.

Looking back on that first day on the train she wondered how they had gotten this far. Only an hour ago, Ron was inside of her and then shortly thereafter Harry was accusing them both of things not done. Maybe at eleven she didn't know things like this would happen but she had a feeling all the same that both boys would someday mean a lot to her. She was right, but in ways she had never imagined. As she packed her bag, throwing on a new shirt and skirt and then allowing Ron to do her tie for her, she pecked his lips and was off. She apparated back to the castle with mere minutes to spare before she was supposed to be on duty. It was worth it though, just as the very first day on the train told her it always would be.


End file.
